Shinigami Strikes Again
by Lauren Ashleigh
Summary: It's known by everyone that Duo has lost all who were near to him. Just when he has gotten over that, and began to live again a tragic accident forever changes his life, as his old reputaion as Shinigami comes back with avengence (COMPLETE!)
1. Default Chapter

Shinigami Strikes Again  
  
By Lolo Winner  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Duo, or Hilde, or any other character, if you want them, you will have to ask Sunrise. I do own Gwenny, Elisia, and Jacqueline. Oh and don't forget Taylor, I own him too, SO HANDS OFF! (All song references were written and preformed by Jim and Tom of the emo band Jimmy Eat World)  
  
// Hear You Me  
  
There's no one in town I know  
  
You gave us some place to go.  
  
I never said thank you for that.  
  
I thought I might get one more chance.  
  
What would you think of me now,  
  
so lucky, so strong, so proud?  
  
I never said thank you for that,  
  
now I'll never have a chance.  
  
May angels lead you in.  
  
Hear you me my friends.  
  
On sleepless roads the sleepless go.  
  
May angels lead you in.  
  
And if you were with me tonight,  
  
I'd sing to you just one more time.  
  
A song for a heart so big,  
  
God wouldn't let it live.  
  
May angels lead you in.  
  
Hear you me my friends.  
  
On sleepless roads the sleepless go.  
  
May angels lead you in.//  
  
The digital clock read 3:53 AM. Just because the luminous numbers said it was late; that didn't mean that I was tiered. I wasn't tiered when the neon red numbers read 12:24 or 2:15; 3:53 was no different.  
  
I continued to gaze lovingly at my wife, who was sleeping peacefully at my side. I laid there, wide eyed. Although I'd been watching her sleep for hours; to me, it felt like only a few minutes had passed.  
  
Cornfield blue light from the moon, low in the sky, lit her delicate face. The translucent light casted shadows on her body, accenting her features. I'd been watching the shadow slowly slither across her all night long, almost as if I knew it would be the last time I would see her.  
  
Suddenly I got a new idea. Silently, I crept out of bed, and snuck out of the bedroom. I walked down the hall, bathed in the light of the full moon. I walked though the shafts of blue light; coming in from the windows, and towards another door at the end of the hall.  
  
Slipping in though the slightly open door, I dragged the Pretty Princes Boutique's pink chair over to the side of the bed, and took a seat. I must have looked awkward in the tiny chair, covered in hearts and stars. Not that I cared though. Resting my head in my hands, I gazed over the second angel in my life.  
  
Like her mother, Gwenny slept silently. Her mouth was open just a crack, and her breathing slow and steady. I carefully examined every fiber of her being: she had her mother's little nose and ears, with my big eyes and mouth. The combination, although sounding awkward, proved perfect. The balance gave her a dainty appearance, and eyes with boundless wells of expression. Her hair was worthy of a poem. The silky brunette tresses flowed in soft waves all the way down her back.  
  
Hilde often complained, in a joking manor, that God was unfair to bless Gwenny and me with such gorgeous hair, when she felt like she was scrimped in the hair department of heaven. I didn't see anything wrong with her soft black hair. It flowed evenly between my fingertips, and smelt sweet to my nose. To me, that was all that mattered.  
  
The soft blue glow of predawn broke though to the warm yellow light of morning. Finally, I put the chair in its spot with the vanity table, and kissed my daughter on the cheek. Reluctantly, I left her room, and walked back to my own. It had been an eventful night of, "star gazing," as I called it, and time to get some sleep. If I was lucky, I could secure a solid hour before I had to get up for work.  
  
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I trudged down stairs forty-five minutes later. /So much for that solid hour./ I said to myself. I wasn't complaining though, how could I after the wonderful night I had? I let a yawn escape as I scuffed my way into the kitchen. Making a beeline for the coffee pot, I poured the hot, fragrant liquid into a mug, and yawned again, as I sat at the table.  
  
Hilde looked up from the paper, "Star gazing again?" She asked.  
  
"Yeah, you should have been there. You two were beautiful."  
  
She sighed, "Duo, you promised me that you would get some sleep last night."  
  
"How do you expect me to sleep when there are two angels in the house?"  
  
She smiled, "You are too cute. Cute in a scary-weirdo-stalker way, but still cute."  
  
"I try to please." I said as I poured a bowl of fruit loops.  
  
"Still feeling sick?" I asked.  
  
"Just a little. Flu's starting to go around you know."  
  
"Want me to drive Gwenny to school?"  
  
She shook her head, "I will." Her eyes opened wide with remembrance, "Oh, make sure you're home on time tonight Du'. I have a surprise for you."  
  
"A surprise eh?"  
  
"Um-hum."  
  
"Can't you tell me now?"  
  
She moved her index finger in mock scolding, "Nope, you'll have to wait like a good boy."  
  
Hearing a soft sound I turned to the doorway. Gwenny entered the kitchen. She was rubbing the sleep from her eyes and shuffling her slippered feet across the linoleum.  
  
My eyes lit up. Leaving my breakfast, I scooped her up into my arms. "How's my little girl?" I asked, spinning her around in the air.  
  
Gwenny laughed, "Daddy!" She cried with joy. She started to pout, "I'm not little daddy!" She crossed her arms, looking very serious.  
  
"Oh that's right! You're a big preschooler today!" I said with a big grin, "Are you excited about school?"  
  
Gwenny shook her head. "No?" I asked.  
  
"I'm scared. What if the other kids don't like me or think I'm weird?"  
  
"If the other kids give you grief just punch them." I said, playfully hitting her arm.  
  
Hilde's eyes grew wide, "Duo!" She scolded.  
  
I looked over, "What?"  
  
She got out of her chair and took Gwenny out of my arms, "Don't listen to daddy, I don't want to hear that you hit any other kids today okay?"  
  
"Okay mommy."  
  
"You know why?" Gwenny shook her head, "Because if you hit them you are just as bad as they are. Don't worry princess, the other kids will be nice to you."  
  
"Promise?"  
  
"Promise."  
  
She smiled and hugged Hilde. She looked up at me, "Daddy can you braid my hair like yours today?"  
  
"Sure doll. Run off and get me a brush and I'll happily braid it."  
  
Hilde put Gwenny down on the floor. She automatically ran upstairs in her toddler bounce to fetch me a brush. Hilde looked crossly at me. I could take the hint, "Just as bad as the other kids. Hum, I've never thought about it that way."  
  
"You can't go telling her to hit the other kids, violence doesn't solve anything."  
  
I opened my mouth, about to dispute what she'd just said. Deciding it wasn't worth it, I closed my big trap and smiled, "Sorry hun, I'll try and remember that."  
  
Gwenny ran down stairs with a brush and elastic hair tie in her little hand. I scooped her up and sat her on my lap. I started to brush though the tangled mass of hair.  
  
A lump formed in my throat. I was reminded of how Sister Helen used to braid my own hair in the church all those years ago. I swallowed the lump, and forced the sorrowful thoughts from my mind.  
  
"Alright all done." I said fifteen minutes later.  
  
Gwenny jumped off my lap. She spun around and posed like a model, "How do I look?" She asked.  
  
I smiled broadly, "Like a little angel."  
  
Gwenny shrieked, "Daddy! I'm not little!"  
  
"Ops, my bad. Sorry sweetie."  
  
"Oh Gwenny we need to get you ready for school!" Hilde said. "Come on, we have to hurry. We don't want to be late." She said, guiding the toddler upstairs.  
  
I smiled again, watching the two most important people in my life hurry upstairs. I focused in on Gwenny with her bouncing braid. Gosh, she looked like me when I was a kid. I couldn't help but laugh at the memories.  
  
I raised such hell for everyone at the church, always running away, stealing anything I could get my grubby little hands on. I realized that I never said thank you to anyone at the Maxwell church. Never once did I thank Sister Helen for braiding my hair, or for paying me so much attention. Again, the memories turned sour, and again I had to force the lump out of my throat.  
  
/I'm so sorry Sister Helen; please forgive me for being such a brat, and thank you. I know I never thanked you when you were still alive. If that heaven you always told me about truly does exist, then you would be up there, so I hope you can hear me. Thank you for everything. I'm so sorry that, because of me, you had to die./  
  
My fruit loops went soggy while I was braiding Gwenny's hair. I got up and dumped the soggy o's down the sink. I looked up at the clock and brushed the bottom of my braid under my nose: debating on weather I should wash it that day. I decided that I should, and that I better get started if I wanted to make it to work on time after the tedious hour-long process of washing and blow-drying all three feet of my thick chestnut hair.  
  
I turned back to my breakfast and scarfed down the fruit loops, and downed the coffee, so much for enjoying breakfast. I longed for a second bowl of cereal, but there wasn't time for that. I decided to just grab some fast food on the way to the salvage yard.  
  
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How could a day that started off so wonderfully turn dark so fast? I have never gotten an answer to that question. It came out of nowhere, and yet when I saw those officers in their cheep wrinkled suits walking over to the salvage heap that morning, I had a sinking feeling that I knew what they were going to tell me.  
  
"Mr. Maxwell?" One of the men called up to me.  
  
"What's it to you?" I asked, not looking away from my work. I knew they were officers, their poor taste in clothing made that obvious.  
  
"Mr. Maxwell we're with the LBPD, we have to speak with you." The man said, holding his badge up to me.  
  
"Yeah, yeah. Hold on a sec." I dropped what I was doing and slid down the heap. I tried to keep the feeling I had down. /I'm just being paranoid, everything is alright./  
  
"What can I do you?" I asked the men when I got to the bottom of the heap.  
  
"I'm detective Csere and this is detective Papior. Maybe we should go inside, we have something important to discuses with you."  
  
They were obviously doing that for comfort and not privacy. I was the only one at the yard that early in the morning. I held up my hands, "Anything you guys have to say, you can say right here."  
  
"Mr. Maxwell-"  
  
"Call me Duo Csere." I said, I hated such formalities as this.  
  
"Alright. Duo, I hate to be the barer of bad news, but there has been an accident."  
  
"An accident?"  
  
"Yes, your wife and daughter were involved."  
  
"Wha. are they alright? Where are they!?"  
  
"I'm sorry, but your daughter didn't survive."  
  
I could never of been prepared for that blow. The news hit me like a freight train. "Wha.what?"  
  
"Your wife is in critical condition. Come on, we'll give you a ride to the hospital."  
  
I shook my head, "No, your wrong. Gwenny can't be dead. My Gwenny isn't dead. She can't be. How could God let a three-year-old die? You're joking right? Who sent you? It was Garrett right? He sent you, well tell him that it's not funny to joke about things like this."  
  
"Mr.- I mean Duo, I'm sorry but Garrett didn't send us. Come on now, if you want to see your wife while she is still alive you will come with us."  
  
"No.no this isn't happening."  
  
"I know this must be difficult-"  
  
"Hell you know!" I yelled as the tears attempted to break loose and run down my cheeks, "Where is she? I want to see Hilde. She's okay right?" I looked up at the officers with a hopeful look in my eyes, hoping that she was, hoping that they would lie to me and tell me that she was.  
  
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As the unmarked police car drove down Maple Street all the buildings went by in slow motion. I stared out at them absentmindedly.  
  
//"Come on we have to leave if you want to get to school on time. Hilde's voice echoed in my head as the scenes of the last time I saw them alive, and they were alive, played over in my head.  
  
"I want to say bye to daddy first."  
  
"Alright, hurry up though okay?"//  
  
The car turned onto Alamito Blvd.  
  
//Gwenny came running up stairs and into our bathroom. I was hanging over, drying the bottom of my hair. I saw her coming out of the corner of my eye. I turned off the hair dryer and I flipped my head back, my still wet hair slapped heavily against my back. "Ready to go already?" I asked.  
  
"Yep."//  
  
We're coming up onto the hospital.  
  
//"Be a good girl alright?"  
  
"Alright."  
  
"Gunna give daddy a hug?"  
  
"Yeah." I bent down and wrapped my arms around her.//  
  
The car pulled into the hospital parking lot, the same hospital where Gwenny was born only three years and five months earlier.  
  
//"I love you daddy."  
  
"Love you to babe."  
  
"Gwenny we have to go." Hilde yelled up from downstairs.  
  
"Okay mommy."  
  
"Bye Duo!"  
  
"Bye hun, I love ya."  
  
"Love to." She yelled back up as Gwenny ran out of the room, her braid bouncing behind her.//  
  
The officers and I rode the elevator up to the trauma floor. The elevator seemed to take forever. My heartbeat pounded in my head as I watched the numbered lights above the door slowly climb. Love to.. love to.. love to.. the last words I ever heard Hilde say kept repeating in my mind,  
  
//The little sedan stopped at a red light. Hilde leaned over into the backseat, trying to fix Gwenny's dress. "Mommy it's green." Hilde turned around and started to go at the green light.  
  
Out of nowhere a pickup truck came barreling from the right, from where the light was now red.//  
  
The elevator opened. We walked down the hall, heading for the sitting area close to her room.  
  
//The pickup plowed into the little car, crushing the right side. The car spun around, thrown into oncoming traffic.//  
  
I sat in the waiting area in the hall and stared at the floor. The detectives were on either side, I don't know, maybe they had some questions to ask me, and were just waiting until I saw her, or maybe they just didn't feel like it would be right to leave me here.  
  
//Three more cars hit theirs as it spun though the traffic. The car finally came to a stop with an eerie silence. The whole right side was caved in. Gwenny always sat in the back on the right side, so that when Hilde was driving she could see her better. There was no way she could of survived.//  
  
"Mr. Maxwell?" I looked up at the doctor, and stood.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"You can see her now."  
  
I start to follow the doctor to the room. "I just want to warn you, that it's bad."  
  
"Bad?"  
  
"We can't do much for her, or the baby."  
  
I stopped, "Baby?"  
  
"Yes, your wife was three weeks pregnant."  
  
"Pregnant?"  
  
"It appears so." The doctor faced me, right outside her door, "Look, Mr. Maxwell, your wife has sustained massive internal injuries. We put her into an induced coma for her own good, so she won't be awake. She might be able to hear you though, so go ahead and talk to her. If you have anything you want to tell her, now is the time."  
  
"So you're saying she's not going to make it."  
  
"I'm sorry Mr. Maxwell."  
  
"I just. I just want to see her."  
  
The doctor opened the door. I entered the room cautiously. It was like all time had stopped. I stared at her. She looked so fragile, so innocent in that bed. Tubes were coming out of her from everywhere. The room was filled with several different beeps with different beats. They were like ice picks, picking away at the numbing silence.  
  
I slowly walked over to her, the whole room faded into a blur from the tears that I was trying to push back. I reached her side, and tried not to see what I saw. There was no way that could be my Hilde. Her face was covered in abrasions, and her whole head bandaged in white gauze, blood was soaking though the white on the right side. I couldn't even stroke my baby's hair one last time.  
  
I rubbed her stomach, "So this was my big surprise huh?" My voice cracked. "Oh Hilde I'm so sorry! Please don't go. Please, come back to me. You can name him or her what ever you want and I won't object, like I did for Taylor.  
  
"Please hunny, you can't go, you can't leave me like this. I promise if you come back to me that I'll never fight with you again. I'll never get mad at you, I'll hold my tongue no matter how wrong you are.  
  
"What can I do baby? How can I make this better? If it means moving the stars I'll do it. I'll do anything! Tell me what I can do to make you better!"  
  
Tears were splashing down onto both of us. I buried my head into her chest, sobbing loudly, "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry this had to happen to you. Oh Hilde, why did you have to get close to me? Why? Didn't you know that it would only end like this? You knew it would, so why? Why did you make me put you though this?"  
  
The heart monitor's line went flat. A high-pitched, sustained beep filled the air, trying to mask my sobs. 


	2. Chapter two

Chapter Two  
  
Disclaimer: incase you were wondering: I don't own Gundam Wing.  
  
//Call It In The Air  
  
Leave home today.  
  
escape your region.  
  
It's in your head, keep moving on.  
  
become your dad.  
  
Live unquestioned.  
  
It's in your head, nostalgia is death.  
  
Choose starlight.  
  
No way to retrace.  
  
It is gone.  
  
Choose star bright.  
  
No way to retrace.  
  
It is gone.  
  
No way to retrace  
  
All your good days, add them up  
  
It is gone.  
  
None of you knew any more then. leave it here.  
  
It is gone.  
  
Can't depend on honest answers from dependent hands.  
  
Won't accept an honest answer from an open hand.  
  
Say the words and I sign off//  
  
  
  
There is nothing sadder than attending a three-year-old's funeral. Well actually I lied, there is: attending a join funeral for a three-year-old and the three-year-old's mother. I decided to have a Catholic funeral, a tribute to the time I spent in the Maxwell Church.  
  
I wasn't wearing my usual clergy wear, although I was cloaked all in black. I sat alone in the front pew. Or, I would have been alone if Hilde's sister Gretchen and her family hadn't sat next to me.  
  
"Hey Duo." She said kindly.  
  
"Hi Gretchen."  
  
"Hilde told me about that star gazing you did at night, that is so sweet."  
  
I couldn't help a sad smile, "She always yelled at me for doing that, telling me that I needed my sleep."  
  
"Oh she was just saying that, she really loved it. She told me how horribly romantic that was." Before we could continue the conversation the singing of the hymns began. I didn't even need the hymnal; I've remembered all the old hymns from my childhood.  
  
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One thing I have never understood is the idea of a post funeral party. I guess that some people want to grieve with others. I've never felt this way; I've never had a choice but to grieve in private, to grieve alone. So when I had everyone over at our home- well I guess it was only my house then- that afternoon I wished that they would all just leave me be. What could I do though? Kick those people out? No, I couldn't do that.  
  
I couldn't take those stories though. If I had to hear one more of Hilde's relatives reminisce in the nostalgic memories of days long since gone, I think I would of lost it, I would of broke down right in the middle of the living room sitting next to Hilde's Grandmother, or some nameless cousin whom I was supposed to remember.  
  
I know they meant well. They were only trying to bring a light note to that senseless tragedy. I didn't want light, I didn't want happy, I wanted to be alone in a dark corner; deprived of light, warmth, and comfort, because that was how I felt.  
  
As Hilde's aunt (whom I supposedly met at Christmas two years before) left, I was met by a familiar face, one of the few there. He sat down besides me, where the numerous friends and family of Hilde had sat before him, with crossed arms, "I'm sorry about them Duo." He said flatly.  
  
"Thank you for coming Heero." I solemnly replied.  
  
"You alright?"  
  
"What do you think?"  
  
"We're all use to death, that doesn't make it any easier to deal with. Stay in there though, these people don't need another loss."  
  
"I doubt they would even notice if I took my life. I'll tell you one thing, my funeral wouldn't get this turn out."  
  
"You're wrong."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"You'll be missed Duo, so don't do anything rash." And with that he left, no goodbye, no see you around, nothing. He just got up and left. I told him years later that that little chat saved my life. I don't know, maybe he could see it in my eyes that I was contemplating suicide, or maybe he just had a feeling. It shocked me though; to have a guy like Heero, who acted like he didn't give a damn about me for so long, tell me that I would be missed.  
  
It struck me so hard, that later that night, after everyone left, I burned the noose I had tied that morning, and left on my bed for after the post funeral party. I tried to forget that I ever even thought of putting it around my neck.  
  
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After that day I grew reclusive. I went to work and went home. I declined invitations to friend's houses for dinner, and the boys at the yard's invitations for beers after work.  
  
I hardly spoke to the guys at work after that. They tried to be sensitive about it, and offered their condolences. I remember one kid, who we called Charley, even though his name was Aticus, came up to me and told me how sorry he was.  
  
I knew this kid well; I knew that he had grown up on a neutral colony, one free from the hardships of war. I also knew that the only person he had lost to the wars was some cousin. When Charley came up to me and said, "hey man I'm really sorry to hear about your wife and kid. I remember when we lost my cousin Mel." I snapped.  
  
I grabbed him by his collar and pulled him right up into my face. "You know nothing about loss." I said though my clenched teach. I threw the startled boy to the ground and raised my voice; "I've lost more people near to me than every member of your extended family, and all of their spouses families." I pointed to my chest, "I'm a survivor of the Maxwell church tragedy!" I yelled. "What do you know about losing loved ones? You know nothing, so don't go offering me your half- hearted sympathy."  
  
I left work early that day, right after I lost it to Charley. That wasn't the first time I left work early. I owned the yard, so no one could tell me when I could, or couldn't leave. Old Francis automatically took over when I felt like I couldn't be there any more. Come to think of it, he wasn't really old, only about forty, but that was older than any of the kids I employed to work the yard, thus the prefix old was added to his name.  
  
There was no instructions given to him to do so, so I was very proud of him for taking it upon himself to look after the kids. He got a nice raise for his work; and retired into a nice area three years back, after being diagnosed with lung cancer, thanks to all those years of chain smoking. We lost touch after his retirement; I don't even know if he's still around, I should try giving him a call.  
  
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One of the hardest things after their deaths was grocery shopping. That was something I didn't expect to be hard. I found myself buying all of Gwenny's favorite foods. One day I came home with a gallon of apple juice, and I can't stand the stuff.  
  
It was hard to break old habits. Once I almost bought a pack of tampons for Hilde. Right after I put them into the cart I realized what I did, and quickly put them back. It was the little things like that, which continually tore me apart.  
  
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I felt like I had to give my unborn child a name. He or she hadn't even lived long enough to develop organs, but they were still a live- and now dead- to me. I didn't like thinking about him or her as 'my unborn child'. So I did the only natural thing to do: I named them.  
  
Taylor is what I decided on for two reasons. First of all the name could pertain to a boy or a girl. The name seemed fitting since I never even thought to ask the doctors if they could tell what the sex of the baby was. The second, and most important reason was, that Hilde loved that name. She suggested it for Gwenny and kept by her guns. I talked her out of it; I know she wished I didn't though. Thus the little guy or gal was deemed Taylor.  
  
I thought about them all; Hilde, Gwenny, and little Taylor occupied my thoughts day in and day out. For hours every night, as I lay in my cold and lonely bed, without Hilde's comforting figure by my side, I would just think about them; remember all the wonderful times we had.  
  
I thought about them so much that my memories would roll into my dreams. Night after night for years on end I dreamt about them. The dreams always started off so happy: me pushing Gwenny and Hilde on the swings in the neighborhood park on a sunny Saturday afternoon, or that trip Hilde and I took to that beach on earth, the same trip where Gwenny was conceived.  
  
Sure the dreams started out filled with smiles and laugher, but they all turned dark. In every dream they would die the same way. The red pickup would come careening from out of nowhere and kill them. In every dream I couldn't do anything but watch: and stare into the cold, bloodthirsty eyes of that killer.  
  
That killer had a name; he had a family. Marv Jukes was his name; it said so right on the side of his truck, 'Jukes Pool Cleaning,' that was what it said. The man, who had a wife and two small children, was on his way to his first client's home that morning. He was speeding because he was late, and old Mrs. Steward hated when Marv was late. So as he drove with reckless abandon, he punched in Mrs. Stewart's number on his cell phone, to give her a heads up that he was a few minutes behind schedule.  
  
The paper with her number on it slipped out of his fingers, a hundred yards or so from the intersection. He didn't even see the light turn yellow, and then red as he searched for the last two digits in the number. He didn't even see Hilde's accord until it was to late.  
  
I guess that guy was truly innocent. It was an accident; he didn't mean to shatter my life by taking away all that mattered to me. He only didn't want to lose old Mrs. Stewart as a client.  
  
To me though he was a cold-hearted killer, and the press ate it up. It was a high profile case to begin with because of who was killed. Adding more fuel to the flames was my history as a Gundam Pilot. That wasn't anything compared to the drums of gasoline I added to the media furnace when I first met Mr. Jukes.  
  
The first time I saw this man was on the first day of the trial, which started three months after the deaths of Hilde and Gwenny. I couldn't keep it in any longer. Right before they got underway I hurtled myself over the gate and into the front of the courtroom, where the lawyers and judge were. I charged Jukes and threw him to the floor. Before the guards were able to pry me off of him I broke his nose and knocked out four teeth.  
  
As they drug me away I was quoted in the papers yelling, "You baby killing bastard, she was only three-years-old! My wife was pregnant you coldhearted son of a bitch! I hope you burn in the deepest pits of hell and I, Shinigami will torcher your soul for all eternity!"  
  
I spent the night in jail. The charges were dropped, but I was banned from the courthouse for the remainder for the trial. After that there were daily recaps of the trial on every local newscast, all of which included the artists rendition of me beating the crap out of that man.  
  
Three months after the courtroom brawl the trial was over. It was already spring, and yet I still felt cold with the absence of my family. Marv got eight years in prison for two counts of involuntary vehicular manslaughter. At the time I thought they were being lenient. He took away everything I loved, in a sense; he took a way my life, and all that was taken away from him was five years due to good behavior.  
  
Even six months after the accident, when the jury results were in, and Marv was sporting a lovely orange prison jumpsuit, I was reclusive. I never went out. All I knew was work, all I ate was take out and delivery pizza. It was bad; I had the restaurants' numbers on speed dial, and I knew all the delivery boys' and girls' names.  
  
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^  
  
A month after their deaths I had a very startling dream. I awoke in a cold sweat, like I did every night before, and every night after that. This dream shook me more than the others though. We were at that beach in Florida, a favorite for my post-accident dreams. This time it wasn't only Hilde who was there with me: so what Gwenny and her little brother Taylor.  
  
Taylor had never been out of the womb in one of my dreams. He was about one in the dream, with his thick, nappy black hair, and big, hazel eyes he looked as much like Hilde as Gwenny looked like me. What startled me most about that dream came the next day: when I finally got around to cleaning out the garage. It was a task Hilde wanted me to do the Saturday after their deaths, and because so, I postponed until then.  
  
While moving the dusty old boxes out of the back corner one caught my eye. "Hilde's Pictures ages 0-5." The collapsible, cardboard moving box boasted in black permanent marker.  
  
I sat on the cold concrete and started flipping though the photo albums of her youth. The shocking discovery sent a chill down my spine, and formed goose bumps on my arms. I stared at one picture in particular.  
  
In the picture little Hilde was building a sand castle on one of earth's beaches, which had an eerie resemblance to our vacation spot. She looked just how I had envisioned Taylor, right down to the smile and chubby, dimpled arms. "Hilde, August AC 181." The calligraphy like writing said at the bottom. She was only a year old in that picture: the same age as Taylor was in my dream.  
  
A week after my chilling dream I found Quatre on my front porch; He didn't even fake a smile that afternoon when I opened the door. "Quatre what are you doing here?" I too made no attempt to pretend the visit was on happy terms.  
  
Quatre looked me over. I hadn't washed my hair for a week, and it showed. Loose strands of hair, which had fallen out of my braid, hung heavy with dirt and oil. I had dark circles under my eyes from my fitful nights, and a rough beard growing.  
  
I also saw him take a look at my clothes, not that I blamed him. Who knows how long I had been wearing that black shirt, I didn't bother to put on pants that Saturday morning. What was the point? I wasn't going out, and I wasn't expecting company. I probably looked rather silly standing there in my red boxer shorts. "God you look terrible." Quatre said truthfully.  
  
"You should go." I said solemnly.  
  
"What for?"  
  
"I don't want you to die like the others."  
  
"What are you talking about?"  
  
"If you value your life you'll leave."  
  
"I'm not leaving you in this state. Don't let me in fine, I'll stay out here until you do."  
  
I sighed and let him in. Sadly, the house looked no better than I. Half finished Chinese take out boxes covered every available space. The smell was rank from the food in their different stages of decomposition. Clothes littered the floor as well. "Sorry for the mess." I said with embarrassment, "I've been meaning to clean it up."  
  
"Don't worry, I understand." He said. He picked the neglected newspapers and mail off a chair and took a seat. I fell into my regular spot on the couch.  
  
"I'm sorry I missed the funeral, I was in the middle of an extensive colony tour, and I couldn't get away. I'm so sorry you had to loose them Duo, I know you must feel like hell."  
  
"You have no idea."  
  
"I know I don't. I lost my father, but I'm sure that's nothing like what you are enduring. I'm sure if Amelia and Arika were to die. I don't know what I would do."  
  
"You should go now."  
  
"Duo, why are you pushing everyone away?"  
  
"I just don't want to kill anyone else."  
  
"What are you talking about? There was no way you could have prevented that. I know this may sound silly coming from me, but blaming yourself isn't going to do anyone any good."  
  
I shook my head, "No Quatre, I'm cursed."  
  
"You mean the GPC?" The Gundam Pilot Curse, or GPC for short, was established between the pilots due to the massive amounts of death each pilot had endured, and their tendency to survive it all. Nowhere in the curse did it mention anything about being to blame for the death that surrounded us, which is why it didn't pertain to me.  
  
Again, I shook my head, "No my curse runs much deeper than the GPC; I'm Shinigami after all."  
  
"Stop that, that's not true. That's only a nickname: like Perfect Solider is to Heero."  
  
"No it's true. It was true when I was four and my whole family died from that damn plague, it was true when I was five and Solo died." I sighed, trying to maintain composure as I continued, "It was true when I was seven and all 245 people at the Maxwell church died, it was true when I was nine and the street gang I joined was gunned down by our rivals.  
  
"It was true all though out the war, when all those countless soldiers died at the hands of my scythe. It was true ten years ago when my friend Brent died from cancer. And it's true now. They were lucky to make it so long with me. So you see it's not just the GPC, I am the true Shinigami because everyone close to be dies, and that is why you have to leave. I don't think I could live though the loss of one more friend."  
  
"Don't forget that I'm cursed as well, Duo. The GPC may not run as deep as yours, but I do survived against incredible odds, and this is no different."  
  
"Alright, but don't say I didn't warn you." We were silent for a few moments, until I numbly began to speak again.  
  
"Our five year anniversary was to be tomorrow, you know. I saw Hilde eyeing a bracelet in a store window; I bought it a few days before the accident. It's silver with little hearts on it; she looked great in silver. It's still in the box, hidden in my sock drawer. She would of loved it, I just wish I could of seen her face when she opened it, and how it looked on her dainty wrist."  
  
"I'm sure you will find another woman worthy of that bracelet Duo."  
  
"I could never love someone like I loved Hilde." I looked up at Quatre, for the first time in our conversation. "She was pregnant, you know."  
  
"Who? Hilde?"  
  
"Three weeks. We were trying for over a year. What a cruel twist of irony: she died the very same day she was going to tell me. Why didn't I see it? I mean, she was showing all the signs: the sickness, the breakouts, the weird foods. I guess I wasn't as good of a husband as I could have been, not to not recognize the signs."  
  
"Oh Duo."  
  
"Taylor, that was what I named him."  
  
"I know you two wanted a boy."  
  
"He had black hair and hazel eyes, just like Hilde."  
  
"How."  
  
"I saw him in a dream. He was so beautiful, Quatre, he was so beautiful, so why? Why did he have to die? Why did I have to find out from the doctor that Hilde was carrying this tiny miracle in her womb? Why couldn't he of lived? Not one breath, he never got to take one breath. He hadn't even developed the lungs to take that breath. Where is the mercy in that Quatre?"  
  
"There is none Duo."  
  
*sniff* break out the tissues. Sorry it took me so long to get this up, but I lost my copy with the edits. I just found them tonight ^.^ The next part takes part in Christmas, so I'm going to upload it most likely on the 23rd, unless something happens and I don't. I doubt I'll forget though. Thanks for reading this! 


	3. Chapter three

Chapter three  
  
Disclaimer: still don't won Gundam Wing, but I'll tell you if they give me the rights.  
  
//Anderson Mesa  
  
Don't leave with out intentions,  
  
Of ever coming back.  
  
Vacation.  
  
You take them,  
  
If you wanted you'd ask them.  
  
Alone I'm outside.  
  
Red sky, I wait there.  
  
Snowfall above me.  
  
Yet new so fading.  
  
Graveyard.  
  
Run around or jump the fence.  
  
Don't leave,  
  
With out intentions of ever coming back.//  
  
Everyone knows that holidays are the hardest time for a person after a loved one dies. This has always been true for me, ever since I was seven and the massacre at the church. Since then Christmas has always been a bittersweet holiday, especially since it was there at the church that I learned about Christmas and its true meaning.  
  
The trial had started a few weeks earlier, adding even more stress and sorrow to the already depressing holiday. Being the first Christmas in nearly eight years without Hilde definitely added to the depression as well.  
  
Hilde always knew that Christmas was hard for me; she tried so hard to make it easier for me. I loved that so much about her, she cared so much about me that she would go out of her way to make sure I was happy. There was one other thing, besides Hilde's silly ideas to cheer me up, that brought me joy at Christmas: telling the story of Christmas to the kids after Christmas dinner.  
  
I told the story the same way Sister Helen told it to us kids when I was young. I tried to mimic her expressions and hand movements, she got so into her little story each year. I laughed the first time I heard it, then the next year I became engrossed in the idea. I did because here was the poor boy, born in a stable of all places, who became the king of the world. That would bring any poor orphan out of their sorrow, even if only for one day.  
  
I loved the looks on the kids' faces as I got to my favorite part: when the angels appeared to the shepherds, and scared them. I would do this little jump forward, one of the little ones would gasp, and everyone would laugh. That was what I loved about Christmas, passing on the story that enchanted me so much as a child to the next generation. Everyone agreed that I told the story of Christ's birth the best.  
  
We were supposed to host Christmas dinner that year. Gretchen decided to have it at her place instead, a wise decision. I was invited, I guess out of pity, since I technically wasn't part of the family any more. I just couldn't stand to see anyone get hurt again, I didn't want to see Gwenny's cousins, who looked so much like her, have to endure the pain that I had inflicted on so many people before them. I made up some excuse- which for the life of me I can't remember now- and spent Christmas alone.  
  
Actually I can't say I was alone. I was with my turkey TV Dinner, and the picture of Hilde and Gwenny, with the one of Hilde on the beach as a child placed in, so my image of Taylor was included in the picture. After my little dinner I got into my car and drove to the cemetery.  
  
It started to snow when I got there. The cold cut like a knife though my thin jacket. I didn't mind though, I hardly even noticed. I stood there in front of their graves for hours talking to them. I told Gwenny about all the wonderful Christmas gifts I was going to buy her, and asked her if she was being a good girl in heaven. I spoke a lot to Hilde too, I asked her about Taylor. I knew he was a boy, maybe it was because of my dream, I don't know, but I just had a feeling that Taylor was to be a boy.  
  
At midnight I was found sitting on the frozen ground in front of their graves, with a layer of snow on me, still talking to them. The guard was doing a round, you know, checking for grave robbers, or those punks who think they can talk to spirits in cemeteries, you know, the usual weird going-ons of the cemetery. The guy shook me, asking if I was all right. I broke out of my trance like state, and realized just how cold and tiered I truly was.  
  
It's a good thing that guard came around, if he didn't everyone would read in the morning paper how a frozen man was found at the foot of the graves of his wife and daughter, who died only four months earlier.  
  
I drove home, trying to stay out of that dream like trance I had slipped into at the cemetery. When I got home I was still frozen to the bone, so I took a warm bath. During the whole bath I was staring at the blow dryer: debating on weather I should turn it on, and drop it in. What Heero said kept popping up though //You'll be missed Duo, don't do anything rash.// I became sick with the internal tug-a-war. It was so terrible that I quickly drained the water and jumped out of the tub, before I really did do anything rash.  
  
The next morning I got a call from Heero. I'm sure he has the same problem with holidays that I have. I know that he was just checking in, making sure I didn't do anything 'rash', which was our code word for suicide, last night. I was glad that he had taken such an interest in me since their deaths. I was still surprised, however, to see his face on the vid phone that morning.  
  
"Heero?" I asked after answering the phone.  
  
"Just wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas." He said, I could tell that he was looking around in the background, seeing if I had any plans.  
  
I quickly noticed this, "Don't worry Heero, I'm not going to do anything rash."  
  
"That's good to here. It was hard though, wasn't it?"  
  
"Hell. I almost froze to death last night by their graves, some guard found me, thank God."  
  
"I thought you might be there."  
  
"Why, did you try calling last night?"  
  
He avoided the question, "Relena is having a New Years Eve bash, since you didn't RSVP she asked me to call you."  
  
"Yeah, that invite. I'm sorry I didn't call. I'm not going to be able to make it."  
  
"Still avoiding everyone."  
  
"Is there a problem with that?"  
  
"No." He said flatly. The screen went blank. 


	4. Chapter Four

Chapter Four  
  
Disclaimer: just incase you didn't get it for the first three chapters—I don't own Gundam Wing. I DO, however, own Elisia and Francis.  
  
//Blister  
  
Take advantage of these times, you said.  
  
You let me down.  
  
It hasn't been the first time.  
  
As I'm falling in the pit of fire my mind's made up.  
  
I'm never coming back here.  
  
I think I'm the only one still alive.  
  
Is it just a coincidence to see you by yourself with no direction?  
  
Now it's time to move on.  
  
Don't you know that things aren't getting better?  
  
Don't try and stop me,  
  
Because I'm falling fast into this pit of fire which surrounds us all.  
  
In a blanket of fear that I've been wrapped in for years.  
  
You can't stop me.  
  
When the world caves in what are you going to do?//  
  
It took me three years to finally swallow my grief and go out into public. I still put myself at blame for Hilde and Gwenny's death, but I decided, with much debate between myself, that I should go on living. I was only thirty after all, and I knew that I most likely had a long life a head of me.  
  
When I went out that Friday night though, I didn't have any plans to meet anyone. I went to the club that Hilde and I frequented before Gwenny was born. I stood by the bar, waiting until I was drunk enough to dance and not care who saw me doing so. While nursing my first beer I saw her.  
  
She was stunning, not as beautiful as Hilde, I decided, but still stunning. Even though I promised myself that I was going for myself, and that I wouldn't talk to girls, I found myself buying her a drink. As we talked, we realized just how compatible we were, and left the club, with it's blaring techno mixes, to go some place privet.  
  
I Hadn't had sex since Hilde died. Suddenly, I found myself sleeping with some girl I had just met. What can I say? I was in love. I finally forgot all of the blame I had put on myself and learned to relax again. For the first night in two years, I didn't have one of those dreams about Hilde and Gwenny.  
  
Her name was Elisia. She was two years younger then me at twenty-eight and full of life. Lets just say that that one night wasn't the last. She moved in only a few months later, and we became inseparable. I didn't tell her about Hilde and Gwenny. I told her that all the pictures of the two around the house were my friend and her daughter. I know that she saw though that lie, maybe she was going to approach me soon about it. I was afraid that she would leave if she learned of my curse. I also though, that maybe, just maybe, if I didn't bring it up, that it would go away, that Elisia would be safe.  
  
I was wrong, oh God how I was wrong. She only lasted a year and a half. I came home from work early that day. Elisia and I were to go out to dinner; it was the night I was going to propose. When I came home the house was dark, which was odd since Elisia loved to have all the light on, our little on going battle was over the electricity bill.  
  
"Elisia are you ready?" I called out. I was answered only by my echo. As my echo faded I could hear the soft mumbling of the radio on upstairs. /Maybe she just can't hear me./ I told myself, trying to mask my fear.  
  
I bounded up the stairs and into our room. That was where I found her. She was lying dead on the floor by the vanity table that use to be Hilde's, which I told Elisia's use to be my mother's, and since I didn't have a sister, it was given to me. Her makeup was half done, she was lying there, still and cold, in only her bra and underwear: the dress she had bought for that wonderful night was still in it's plastic cover, hanging in the closet.  
  
Hesitivly I knelt down beside her. A sob formed in my throat as I shakily brought two fingers to her neck. Her neck was cold, it was still, it was deprived of all life. I fell down onto the floor with shock and fear.  
  
I couldn't call the police just yet. I was far too weak to try and use the phone. I sat there on the floor, holding her lifeless body, crying over her. What brought it on you ask? A brain aneurysm, one of those things you don't know about, until it's too late.  
  
So again, we put her under the ground. My roll was different this time; I tried to comfort her weeping mother at the post-funeral party, instead of being the one who was being comforted.  
  
Needless to say, after Elisia's death, I dropped totally out of sight.  
  
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^  
  
What else could I do though? I mean; I still found myself to blame for their deaths. I had lost four of the most loved people in my life in five short years. You know that old fable of the king who what ever he touched turned to gold? Well I was that king; only what ever I touched died.  
  
I was afraid of who might be next. Anyone was a candidate in my mind: the delivery kids, the old lady next door, and most of all, the guys at the yard. I did what I thought was right, and due to my circumstances and mindset, still believe was. I sat down with Francis one morning and handed over the company that Hilde and I had built with our own hands, we went though all the hardships, all the phases of growth and development together. With a few signatures, and a refused handshake on my part, I gave it all away.  
  
Wondering what I did for money since I refused to be around people? I had that figured out. I discovered a few years earlier that I could make a thousand dollars a month off of rent. When I signed over the company all I asked for was that thousand dollars a month. It wasn't much, but then again, I didn't need much. The only thing was that I couldn't afford the payments on the house.  
  
It was so hard for me to give away that little three-room home. The same house that Hilde and I stared longingly at seven years before. The same home that we brought Gwenny home to. The same home where Elisia had died.  
  
With the money I earned off of the sale I rented a little one-room apartment and paid off the car. The money I had left went into savings. After rent, bills, and insurance, I had a little over three hundred dollars a month to live off of; and that was more than enough.  
  
So my withdrawal stage began all over again, this time it was so much worst. I refused to go out. I no longer answered the phone or door; both rang seldom to begin with anyways. I had lived up to my name: I was the true Shinigami.  
  
The withdrawal stage lasted so much longer this time. I saw Elicia's death as further proof of my curse. I slept rarely, ate seldom, and stared at the TV with a numbed glaze over my eyes for the remainder of my time. That was my life for four years.  
  
I was now thirty-five, and a ghost of my former self. I had lost my vigor, my sense of humor. I had lost my soul. I would of stayed lost if the advents that followed hadn't of happened.  
  
It's going to get happy soon… I promise. Wooo only one (or two, depending on how I decide to break it up) chapter(s) left!!!  
  
TBC 


	5. Chapter Five

Chapter Five  
  
I don't own Duo, but I take full responsibility for all the hell I'm putting him though right now.  
  
//Ten  
  
We left behind the busy crowd.  
  
So it seems we slow down.  
  
Meet me with a way out through the lies.  
  
Nowhere, going nowhere in the fake yellow light.  
  
The feelings change so fast.  
  
Safety scares them away.  
  
I can't bring myself to say it's my own advice I need.  
  
Nowhere and then nowhere.  
  
Living trapped inside the chase.  
  
Our weekness is the same.  
  
We need poison sometimes.  
  
So take another drink with me.  
  
Blame no one.  
  
Look in my eyes and blame no one.//  
  
  
  
I remember that afternoon well. I say afternoon, as one would use morning. Even though I hadn't slept in over four days, I had the tiredness one feels when they first wake up, not when they are horribly deprived of sleep. It took me four whole days to realize how tight my stomach was. It was so tight that it pained me to move, to breath. I headed to the kitchen; but fate had something a little different in mind.  
  
When I opened the fridge I was shocked to see it empty. Not normal empty; you know, when you have a little milk, and some peanut butter, this was /empty/ empty. The cupboards were the same. My choices for breakfast were ketchup or marshmallow cream that had an expiration date about six years back. Hilde would buy that stuff to make fudge around the holidays, so I guess it actually had a pretty good shelf life if you think of it that way.  
  
I could of resorted to my old means of survival via take out. That is, I could of it I hadn't neglected to pay the phone bill. I didn't see a point to having a phone when I never used it, but I sure as hell wished I had one then.  
  
I guess I could have always taken my chances with the marshmallow cream and waited until the next day, or just ignore the hunger pangs and go back to my somber moping, but I was compelled to do something about my pathetic food situation. As my stomach growled I put on some dingy old jeans and grabbed the keys to my car.  
  
I browsed my way around the grocery store in the same zombie like trance I always had. I was so out of touch with reality that I couldn't even recall what I wanted. I stood in front of the bread section for a good ten minutes before I remembered the brand I always bought. I'm not kidding either, ten whole minutes.  
  
I was to hungry, to wear to think. No, it wasn't just the hunger; it was the eight years of self-destructive depression that finally did me in. The depression was a cancer that ate away at my soul and body for eight long years. My body simply had no more to give, so it gave in. Right in between the oranges and the pears is when I couldn't carry on any longer. My knees buckled, and the rest of me quickly followed.  
  
I was so lucky to have collapsed in the middle of that busy supermarket. If I didn't give up there, I would of at my home, all alone. I wouldn't have been found until the stench of my decay lofted up from under my shut apartment door, and someone finally checked on me. That's what would have happened, I had nothing left.  
  
They rushed me to the hospital, where I came to a few hours later. I was diagnosed with malnutrition and extreme exhaustion. That meant nothing to me. I was so upset when I woke up, not because I was in the hospital, but because I was /in/ the hospital. I wanted to die, why couldn't they just let me die?  
  
I retaliated the only ways I could. I constantly took the IV out of my arm and refused to eat. It was only a mater of time before I was transferred to the psychiatric ward. Yeah, you know where the story goes from here; because you were the reason I stopped fighting against myself. In the psychiatric ward I met my final hope: I met you.  
  
At first, in my stubborn eyes, you were just another damn doctor with your damn theories on everything. No, you were worst then those other doctors. You were a shrink. That was how I felt, until I heard you speak. Your voice had the consistency of cream, the texture of silk. Those words you spoke, no mater what their meaning, fed my heart, they gave me life. I realized later why your voice had such a way with my ears. You sounded like her, like Sister Helen.  
  
That was when I began to believe in God. Sister Helen always told me that no mater what happened to me that God had a plan for me, she also promised me that she would always be with me. I learned both to be true that day.  
  
She had taken your beautiful form, and used your lips to do her speaking. This was the only way I can explain how I managed to survive.  
  
I began eating again, my body began to accept the medication they gave me, and I began to see your daily. I had to pull some strings for that last one. It took me so long to get that woman up front to switch me under your care. So I started seeing you for my therapy, everyday. Finally I had someone to tell.  
  
You already know how my church family, my wife, my children, and my girlfriend died, but you never knew why I truly was so depressed over it. I neglected to tell you how I saw myself to blame for those deaths. I didn't have to; you saw it in my eyes. I didn't have to hide from you; I didn't have to be afraid that you would fear me.  
  
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^  
  
I look into her eyes from my chair in front of her. Tears are streaming down her cheeks, thank God I told her to make sure she wore waterproof mascara. The tears dirty with her makeup run to the corners of her full lips, and then down her chin. She doesn't notice them splash onto her notes, she doesn't see the flesh toned circles they make on the paper.  
  
I continue with the end of the story, the finally. "Because of you I can except their deaths. I know it's cruel, but it's because of them that I met you. When I was with Hilde I thought she was my match, when I was with Elisia I thought she was my truelove, but now I know that you are my soul mate. After I met you, I couldn't image spending my life with anyone else.  
  
"I know that you are the one," I heard the little clock chime. Our session is over, but I'm not ready to go, "I thought I knew with Hilde and Elisia, but with you I'm positive. So before I ask you something, I thought it would be fair to tell you the circumstances for those incidents. I'll let you decide if the curse as the true Shinigami is upon my soul, or if it's just a figment of my imagination, something to help explain the death that surrounded me.  
  
"There is something that I have kept for a long time." I pull a black box out of my back pocket, "Something that someone once told me I should give to someone else I loved. When he said that I thought he was crazy, I couldn't imagine giving it away. But… he was right." I open the box and watch as a new wave to tears escapes her eyes as she looks down at the silver bracelet with the little hearts etched into it.  
  
"I know it's not a ring or anything, but I want you to pick that out. Basically what I'm asking Jacqueline is; will you be my wife?" 


	6. Epilouge

Epilogue:  
  
//Praise Chorus  
  
Are you gonna live your life wonderin' standing in the back lookin' around?  
  
Are you gonna waste your time thinkin' how you've grown up or how you missed out?  
  
Things are never gonna be the way you want.  
  
Where's it gonna get you acting serious?  
  
Things are never gonna be quite what you want.  
  
Or even at 25, you gotta start sometime.  
  
I'm on my feet, I'm on the floor, I'm good to go.  
  
Now all I need is just to hear a song I know.  
  
I wanna always feel like part of this was mine.  
  
I wanna fall in love tonight.  
  
Are you gonna live your life standing in the back looking around?  
  
Are you gonna waste your time?  
  
Gotta make a move or you'll miss out.  
  
Someone's gonna ask you what it's all about.  
  
Stick around nostalgia won't let you down.  
  
Someone's gonna ask you what it's all about.  
  
Whatcha gonna have to say for yourself?  
  
Don't don't, don't let's start, why did we ever part?  
  
Kick start my rock 'n rollen heart.  
  
I'm on my feet, I'm on the floor, I'm good to go.  
  
So come on Davey, sing me somethin' that I know.  
  
I wanna always feel like part of this was mine.  
  
I wanna fall in love tonight.  
  
Here tonight.  
  
I wanna always feel like part of this was mine  
  
I wanna fall in love tonight.//  
  
  
  
Life has changed so much since I met Jacqueline during my stay at the hospital six years back. I regained ownership of the salvage yard after Francis retired, and now we are living comfortably, and happily, off of our join incomes, in a wealthy part of the colony.  
  
I finally got my son, the one I have always wanted. In a wonderful twist Jacqueline always loved the name Taylor. Little Taylor is now two, and his little sister is on the way. We already decided to name her Helen.  
  
Finally, after all those years of mourning, I can put all that behind me. Finally I can go on with my life. And I know that Sister Helen and Hilde are proud of me for finally being able to do that. 


End file.
